


Tale As Old As Time

by annaregina



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Abandoned Manor, Abusive Parents, Beauty and the Beast Elements, Cursed!Ben, Dark Fairy Tale Elements, F/M, Fairy Tale Elements, Gargoyles, Leia is a good mum, Plutt is Plutt, Runaway!Rey, Spooky, True Love's Kiss
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-14
Updated: 2020-08-23
Packaged: 2021-03-04 19:48:12
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 8,864
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25251874
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/annaregina/pseuds/annaregina
Summary: If Rey had turned back at any point, she would probably have seen the gargoyle turn on the spot, his stone grey eyes following her down the hallway, lingering on her bare feet on the deep red carpet and her tattered jumper clinging to her body.But she didn’t turn back – she never would, the past was in the past – and so she never saw him.
Relationships: Rey/Ben Solo | Kylo Ren
Comments: 29
Kudos: 85





	1. Ever A Surprise

She didn’t mean to trespass, she really didn’t. But the hedge bordering the property was thick and sturdy, sure to ward off any unwanted guests – or unwanted pursuers, in Rey’s case. Climbing it took work and way too much concentration, and once she dropped down onto the other side, the grass underfoot darker somehow, she was covered in scratches from the tiny thorns and severely out of breath.

The good news was that if she had struggled to get over, Unkar Plutt and his slimy accomplices wouldn’t stand a chance. The bad news was that she didn’t think she had it in her to get back out any time soon: the chase out of town and off the road, followed by that climb, had drained what little energy she’d had left.

Catching her breath momentarily, Rey pushed her damp hair back from her forehead and glanced around. The area looked like it had once been gardens – presumably for the dilapidated mansion she could see through the maze – but the hazy rain and the fog clinging to the trees made it difficult to tell. It was odd, though, because it hadn’t been misty in the forest before.

But there was nothing for it, she needed shelter and she needed warmth, and the only place for miles around was the house across the clearing. So, soaked to the skin from the rainclouds overhead and exhausted, Rey set off, her battered trainers squelching from all the water and mud they’d taken in.

She skirted around the maze, not wanting to get lost in the hawthorn hedges that loomed higher than her head, and stuck to the gravel path. Weeds poked through the white stones, as dark as the grass and in stark contrast with the gravel. Rey was far too focused on the doors up ahead to notice, though. Shivering, she slipped up the weather-worn steps and, forgetting where she was momentarily, knocked on the dark doors, craning her neck up to follow the lines carved into the wood all the way up to the arched entryway overhead.

The scale of the place was even more impressive up close and she sucked in a sharp breath as she noticed the rows of gargoyles clinging to the chiselled walls. Very gothic, she thought. There was obviously no answer and she nearly laughed at herself for bothering with manners as she pushed the left door ajar with her shoulder and vanished silently into the murky depths of the mansion.

Once inside, Rey left the door open – just in case, she told herself, just in case what’s in the house is worse than what followed her here in the first place – and tiptoed further into the grand entrance.

It was dim, illuminated only by shafts of light from holes in the ceiling high above her head, but that was enough light to get a sense of the place; two wide, sweeping staircases took up most of the room, hugging the walls and drawing her eye up and up to the painted ceiling, the delicate artwork centred on the exquisite, if dirty, chandelier. Each jewel scattered the little light that snuck in from the downcast sky outside, spraying the fragmented light against the walls like raindrops.

Rey laughed to herself, and the hoarse sound bounced off the walls, echoing through the abandoned hallways leading off the foyer. She was alone in the remnants of glory like a little girl who had stumbled into the pages of a fairy tale with no idea how dark they were meant to be.

Despite the holes in the roof, the room seemed to be dry, if a little stale, so she removed her shoes, preferring the feel of rough floorboards and dirty carpets to the slimy mud that caked her toes. As she leaned against a stair rail to tug the trainers off her feet, her eyes landed on something hidden away in the shadows at the back of the room. The grey figure seemed to watch her and her heart rate spiked sharply until she realised it was just a statue – just another of the gargoyles from outside even if this one was far more handsome.

A grin split her face in two, lighting up her eyes as she pattered over, her feet making only the slightest noise on the smooth floor.

Rey paused in front of the male statue and then, laughing, she curtseyed as low as she could go. She’d never had ballet lessons like the other girls in her class at school, but they’d all practised together in the playground enough that Rey felt like she was doing a pretty good job.

“How do you do, sir?” she crowed, putting on a silly posh accent as she straightened up, smoothing out her imaginary skirts. “Your mansion is really splendid! No, Rey, they wouldn’t call it a mansion,” she tutted to herself and shook her head. “The grounds look simply marvellous this time of year, the...” She struggled to recall any type of flower. “The rhododendron bush is in full bloom, your mother must be so happy.”

She laughed again loudly at her own ridiculousness and grabbed her soaked shoes up off the floor, striding past the gargoyle and knowing that if she had really been in a dress, it would’ve brushed the man’s ankles teasingly. Rey had never let herself indulge in that kind of daydreaming. She’d always had to remain practical, remain alert, but here in this ridiculous house with no one for miles around, she figured she could probably allow herself to dream a little.

And if Rey had turned back at any point, she would probably have seen the gargoyle turn on the spot, his stone grey eyes following her down the hallway, lingering on her bare feet on the deep red carpet and her tattered jumper clinging to her body. But she didn’t turn back – she never would, the past was in the past – and so she never saw him.

* * *

Once Rey had scouted out most of the ground floor – a task that took her the best part of an hour if her battered watch was still keeping time – she returned to a smaller room close to the main doors full of folded sheets and extra blankets. A servant’s room, most likely. Rey didn’t know much about how fancy old houses were run, but she knew a place of this size would’ve needed a small army to maintain it. No wonder it had fallen into disrepair.

She stripped her cold, damp clothes off down to her underwear and wrapped herself in a scratchy, moth eaten blanket as she arranged her clothes around the room to air dry, brow furrowed in concentration. If she was being honest with herself (something Rey tried not to do too often, it was mostly depressing) it was very strange that the linen and rugs hadn’t been completely destroyed by time. They hardly looked taken care of, but neither did they look as old as the rest of the items in the house. Something about it made her shiver, but she ignored it and tightened her grip on her blanket as she slipped out of the room, her rucksack still on her hand, and headed for the stairs.

Once she was on the first level, she easily found the spiral staircase up to the very top. More strange things seemed to follow her, and while she didn’t quite know what it was, there was definitely something _odd_ about the place.

For example, on the first floor, the picture frames displaying portraits of ‘Her Royal Majesty Leia Organa’ and ‘King Consort Han Solo’ seemed to have far less dust on them than any of the surrounding portraits. And the fact that while the mansion itself looked, in Rey’s limited knowledge, to be a few hundred years old, there was a stack of books from much later – Sherlock Holmes, The Great Gatsby, The Grapes of Wrath. Rey checked inside and they were all first editions. She slipped them into her rucksack guiltily. Weirdest of all was that there seemed to be several versions of the statue in the vestibule dotted around the building: there was one at the other end of the corridor on the third floor, his dark eyes and haughty cheekbones catching her attention despite the shadows he had been placed in; there was even one by the stairs up to the tower, looking down at her along his nose, his skin pale somehow despite the stone he was made of.

Rey wasn’t easily creeped out – she had seen plenty in her twenty years – but that started to get to her as she traipsed up the narrow stairs to the very top of the mansion. She was once again out of breath by the time she made it to the top, the narrow windows of the stairwell opening up to the darkening sky, the wind whipping through the little turret room.

The dryness of her throat reminded her that, at some point, she needed to leave this place and find a way back into town. But she didn’t have to leave just yet – she’d dealt with far worse thirst and hunger before.

Leaning against the cold stone parapet, Rey inhaled deeply, her eyes scanning the view. A small smile played at the corner of her mouth as she surveyed the tiled roof below her, the arches and carvings beautiful even from up in the tower. The gardens sprawled out from the ruins, more expansive than she’d previously thought. The maze and the hedge she’d jumped to get here were visible through the mist, but luckily the rain was moving on, giving way to the palest blue sky she’d ever seen.

“Well, Rey,” she said to herself, keeping the blanket tight around her body, guarding against the chilling wind. “This isn’t half bad as a hiding spot. You’ve hidden in worse.”

She’d had to run from Plutt several times over the years, once squatting for a week in a disused toilet block at the back of a park. A mansion with fancy gardens was infinitely better, even if said gardens were in dire need of a weed.

“Who are you hiding from?”

Rey screamed, whirling around to face where the deep voice had come from, scrabbling at the stone, desperate for a loose rock, a splinter, anything, anything to defend herself from--

* * *

“ _You_ ,” the girl hissed, her eyes wide but somehow not scared. Not scared of him, anyway, maybe just from the fright.

Ah, so she recognised him. He hadn’t exactly been subtle, but then again his curiosity had overridden any desire to remain hidden from her. This girl, this skinny thing, who had _curtseyed_ to him and scampered off laughing. This girl, who had wandered in here unafraid and undaunted. She shouldn’t have even been able to cross the boundary and here she was, narrow fingers clutching the stolen blanket, barefoot in his tower and glaring at him like she hadn’t just seen a statue come to life.

“Me,” Ben replied, moving towards her stiltedly, forcing his frozen limbs to bend to his will, needing to be closer to her.

She stepped back and raised one fist, eyes dark with fury. “Don’t come any closer.”

“Do I look like I could hurt you?” Ben asked softly, lifting one hand painfully, wincing internally as his skin cracked and split at the joints. “Do I look like I could chase you if you ran? Don’t be foolish, girl.”

He heard her breath catch in her throat, the sound so painfully young and human that he reconsidered even following her here. He should’ve stayed hidden and let her leave, set her free.

“Who are you?” She made no move to leave even though he had left plenty of space for her to dart around him to the stairs.

“Seeing as you are invading _my_ home, I suggest you answer that question first,” Ben said, trying to inject his voice with something other than awe.

“I’m Rey,” she said, clenching her jaw. She had freckles scattered across her cheeks, her skin tanned despite the miserable year-round weather.

He rolled the name around in his mouth and nodded slightly. “Rey what?”

Her eyes flashed defensively. “Rey Nothing. It doesn’t matter, I’m not telling a stranger my full name!”

He chuckled quietly, flashing his teeth. “Fair enough. I’m Benjamin Organa-Solo. Prince and former statue.”

The girl – Rey – let out a small choking noise but other than that showed no response to his reveal even as her eyes focused in on him, rapid calculations going on inside her pretty little head.

So far, her lack of reaction was the least impressive thing about her. She had somehow gotten through the woods, which were treacherous enough at the best of times let alone during a storm, scaled the hedge that was imbued with magic to keep people out, found her way all the way to the top of building dressed in only a ratty blanket only to be confronted by a man she had previously believed to be a gargoyle – all with only a single scream. He was intrigued.

“I curtseyed to you, in the hall,” she whispered, her voice nearly lost to the wind that whipped through the tower.

“You did. Your form was quite good, considering everything.”

Rey choked again, quieter, as her hand stopped searching for a weapon. “Thank you.”

“I’ll ask again, Rey,” Ben said, his voice low as he stepped closer to her. She didn’t back away. “Who were you running from?”

“You don’t need to know that,” she muttered.

“That’s understandable,” he nodded, hearing his neck crack and not in the human way. “But you wish to stay here?”

His eyes fell to her mouth as she worried her bottom lip against her teeth, nervous.

“I do. Yeah. If... if that’s okay? Not for long, just until they’re not looking for me, just until he’s not angry.”

Ben swallowed the hurt that he knew would come when she eventually left – despite the curse, despite his own desperation, he had promised his mother that he would never force anyone to stay with him. They would stay of their own free will or he would succumb to the magic. There was no third option, no prisoners, no captives, no manufactured love.

But she would stay for now. And that was more of a chance than he’d had in three hundred years. Ben nodded again, watching her thin frame shiver in the cold and wishing more than anything that he could feel the wind against his skin just once more.


	2. Ever As Before

He struggled on the way back down the twisted staircase, labouring over every step as his petrified muscles strained with the effort of stretching and flexing. Ben could tell that the girl was on the verge of offering her assistance but he didn’t want it – it would only be pity and that was something he couldn’t abide.

She slipped ahead of him and lead the way back to the room she’d stashed her things in. He’d seen her choose it, of course, poking his head around the end of the corridor as she’d explored earlier. There was something nervous and cornered about her that he couldn’t quite place: it was most likely because he was so out of touch with society, having only had limited interactions with the outside world the entire time he’d been trapped here; but he didn’t think her skittishness and skinniness were a product of her time. They felt more like a product of whoever she was running from.

“Would you prefer a bedroom?” Ben asked, the words scraping his throat. “They’re up on the second floor. I won’t lie, the majority are in disrepair, but there are several still suitable...”

Her blinding smile lit up her face, transforming her. Ben could only gape.

“I’d love that! You mean it? I get a fancy bedroom?”

He cleared his throat and nodded slowly. “If you would like one. I’m not sure where you were planning on sleeping before.” Stepping back, he moved towards the door and indicated for her to follow him.

She did just that, scampering after him still dressed only in that damned blanket. “Probably just on the floor in here, or somewhere I could make a fire. I’m quite good at starting them.”

The mildly pained expression on her face quelled his curiosity and he focused instead on climbing the sweeping staircases. Even though he knew exactly why he'd suddenly regained some semblance of movement, it still felt painful; one minute he had been stood in the hallway, rooted to the spot, and the next he had been watching the door open in front of his working eyes, hearing a human voice for the first time since his mother died and left him all alone with the curse.

The petrification clearly hadn’t been entirely undone, and he was sure that this was another sadistic clause of the original curse – who could fall in love with a man half made of stone? He could only pray it would improve if she remained close by.

Rey ran ahead of him as they reached the east wing and the start of the guest bedrooms, peering into all the rooms regardless of their state, her delighted expression only growing. “I didn't come into this bit before. These are all sick!”

“Sick?” he snorted, the word unfamiliar in this context. “Do be careful, though, they’re very dusty – do you have allergies?”

Rey turned her head to give him a bemused look. “I don’t think so.” Ben couldn’t quite decipher her expression.

“This one is yours. Or it is yours now, if it suits you.” He pushed the door open, ignoring the creak of the wood where it had once glided smoothly – like most things in this house. In truth, the room he was showing her had been his but he hadn’t slept in it in a very long time. He hadn’t been able to lower himself onto the bed and was fearful of what would happen if he lay down and couldn't get up.

Rey slipped inside, her eyes wide and round. “Seriously?”

“Seriously,” Ben replied, rubbing his wrists where the calcified skin was sore from this new use. He could find anywhere to sleep – he had slept standing up many times in the past. Most notably his last sleep that had lasted, at his best estimate, 230 years.

He realised he’d do it every day for the rest of his life just to receive one more smile like the one she was giving him now, her eyes sparkling and her shoulders relaxed. Her windswept hair was loose around her shoulders and even though she was in dire need of a wash, she looked luminous to him.

“Thank you, Benjamin Organa Solo, Prince and Statue,” she laughed, mimicking his introduction from up in the tower.

If his cheeks could’ve turned red, they would have. “Just Ben is okay.”

“Ben,” she smiled, tipping her head to the side as she watched him. “Okay, Ben.”

* * *

As with every other large and unexpected change in her life, Rey adapted quickly to life in the manor. She was mildly concerned about her _lack_ of concern – she was shacking up in an abandoned mansion in the woods with a man who claimed to be a long ago prince and a living statue, and not the street artist sort. But she felt _safe_ , and Rey trusted her gut over anything else. It had never let her down unlike everything else in her life.

She slept in the humungous four poster bed, washed in the stream outside (it had been too much to hope that the house had running water) or warmed water over the fire when it was too cold even for her. She and Ben foraged for food – enough for the two of them now that he was human enough again to eat at last – and talked all day and night. She snuck to the edge of town to rummage through the bins when they couldn’t live off the forest and she taught him how to cook from their eclectic pantry, laughing when tinned food stumped him.

Plutt had seen her once in the month that had passed as she waited in the hand out line for food and supplies. He’d chased her, losing her the chance to get some toiletries and tins of rice pudding, but he’d vanished almost as soon as she’d come close to the grounds. Which was weird but handy, so she’d let it slide. Whatever was going on, the house clearly considered her a friend and not a foe.

Apart from that, Rey had never felt so relaxed. Her days were spent exploring the mansion, helping Ben with the stairs and cleaning various rooms to keep herself busy. Her evenings were mostly spent in the smallest sitting room, in front of the fire as Ben read and she examined all the paintings and nosied around.

And then, one evening, just as the sun was setting, Rey discovered the library.

The golden sunlight filtered through the dirty windows, streaming across the stacks of books slotted onto endless bookshelves. Dust clung to everything, stirring as she moved, her fluffy socks quiet on the ancient floorboards. Rey held her breath, not wanting to disturb anything unless she had to even as she trailed her fingers along the tabletop, the wood smooth from years of use, the lacquer almost gone.

She moved further inside, revealing yet more shelves, ladders propped up against the colourful tomes and plush armchairs scattered cosily around the room, perfect for curling up in with a mug of tea.

“Incredible,” she breathed, dusting her hands off and skipping over to the first row of books. Her eyes flickered up and down the many titles until she spotted the sign: Non Fiction, Religion. Not her thing at all. She just wanted a good romance, and so she continued searching, giddy with excitement.

She darted along the rows and rows, scanning the signs for even the start of the fiction section until, buried deep in the room, she found it. Fiction, A-C.

“Right, Benjamin, let’s see how good your collection is,” she grinned, her voice barely carrying in the large room, the air heavy with disuse. Maybe she’d clean this room next, transform it from this shadowy memory into something beautiful. Rey was a firm believer that if you just waited long enough, good things would come your way. It was how she'd survived so long, and it was why she knew this place was where she belonged. She was needed to renew the house, the books, the man trapped here. _This_ was what twenty years of clinging on had led her to.

Her slim hands pulled book after book from the shelves, dusting them each down carefully as she stacked them onto the table, a tower of fables and folklore, all her favourites piled up. Classics, fairy tales, poetry and everything in between. Gilded covers, cracked spines, ribbon book marks. Each shelf she looked at held another title she wanted to read, and the time slipped by like quicksilver as she explored.

* * *

She flitted from stack to stack like a fairy, her eyes luminous and awestruck. He didn't blame her - he felt the same in here. The Library had always been his favourite room too, the collection carefully cultivated by his grandparents, then his parents, and then him. Some books were scattered around the house, he was sure, but there seemed to be plenty that she liked.

Ben thought he could watch her forever. It was only when her shoulders began to droop and the light through the windows began to fade that he realised he'd been stood watching her for... hours. Time had long since lost meaning for him, but he knew she would be feeling hungry, or tired at the very least. If even he could sense the clawing edge of hunger inside him, she would definitely need food. Although he got a sense that the feeling wasn't unfamiliar to her and that suspicion made him the angriest he'd felt in a very long time.

It would hit him at the most innocuous times: reading by the fireplace and looking across at her dunking biscuits in her tea with such glee that his stomach twisted; the fear in her eyes when she'd returned from town empty handed like he was going to punish her. She'd never told him who she was hiding from and it was likely for the best.

"Rey?" he called, his voice hoarse. He shifted carefully on the spot, his joints stiff from holding his one position unmoving for the afternoon.

Her tawny head whipped round, faster than he thought he could move. "Ben?"

"It's getting late. Do... do you want tea?"

Her smile was all the answer he needed. "I can get it, Ben! Don't hurt yourself on my account! Did you want some too?"

He shook his head firmly. "No, I'm making it. You stay here, choose one of the... many books you have removed from my shelves."

Rey giggled and the sound was life itself. "Thank you."

Nodding once, he limped away, his foot having gone numb at some point in the last hour. It was worth it for her.

* * *

And all at once, they had a new routine. The morning was spent lazily, Rey slowly dusting bookshelves and picture frames or oiling the doors with a determined hope that broke and then immediately healed Ben's heart every time. The afternoons were whiled away in the library, Rey curled up in a dusty armchair engrossed in a book, Ben watching over her and hobbling to make tea whenever he felt himself on the verge of seizing up completely.

They did nothing on a regular basis and yet it was everything to him. She didn't know it yet - they didn't really talk about that kind of thing, just everything in between - but every morning he woke up with a little more movement, a few less cracks in his skin. She was fixing him and setting him free and she wasn't even aware. The same way he knew he had only skimmed the surface of her life, despite the hours talking under blankets. The spectres that haunted her and sent her running to the house in the first place remain unmentioned. She didn't have anywhere else to go, he could tell. But he was infinitely relieved she found her way here to him.

Rey looked up from her book, feeling his eyes on her. He was aware of his continuing habit to fall eerily still but he tried not to do it, knowing it freaked her out if she was caught off guard.

"Why are you not stone any more?"

Ben blinked. Oh, they were doing this? That was... a difficult question. "There's a longer and a shorter answer, but neither is one I feel comfortable saying. The _shortest_ answer I could give you, but I highly doubt it will answer any of the burning questions I know you have."

She grinned slightly and tipped her head to the side. "Let's have it anyway."

"I woke up," he said simply, running his fingers down the arm of his chair, holding his book steady in front of him. He hadn't been reading it closely anyway.

The short answer was that _she_ woke him up. The long answer was that she had broken the curse laid down so long ago. But telling her that meant telling her the secret hope he was nurturing in private: the only person who could break the curse was supposed to be his true love. Which made her... the most precious person in the world to him. But if he told her that and she ran? The pain of slowly turning back to stone would only be eclipsed by the agony of knowing she'd left him.

Rey's forehead furrowed slightly and she opened her mouth seemingly to ask more questions but something about his expression gave her pause. She closed her mouth again and smiled softly at him. "I'm glad you did."

His marble heart skipped a beat, thudding in his chest for the first time in two centuries.

* * *

He really should've known she wouldn't leave it alone, Rey reminisced as she flicked through the illustrated volume in front of her, her eyes scanning over golden pictures of princess in high towers, stacked mattresses and dragons hoarding gold. She wasn't stupid, there was something he wasn't telling her and she was determined to find out.

Another two weeks had passed since their talk in the library. She'd spent every waking moment since trying to figure out what exactly was happening. An abandoned mansion, a statue coming to life, hedges that seemed to deter anyone but her from entering. The answer flitted at the edges of her mind, never coming into view. So she'd resorted to books, scouring through volumes of folk songs, fairy tales and long forgotten bedtime stories. Magic was at work in this house and somehow she was a part of it.

And then, her eyes tired and fingers cramping from turning delicate pages she found it. After the story about the princess and the apple, before the shimmering illustration of a glass slipper, the story of a prince turned to a beast, trapped in his castle and freed by true love's kiss. Sure the details were murky - regardless of the parallels, the book was a children's story collection - but her heart skipped a beat as her eyes scanned the cramped old text, trying to read the between the lines. The picture of the prince blurred with Ben's face in her mind, the girl in her golden dress and her brown hair making Rey reach up to touch her own. A curse. A life time of waiting. The happiness at the end.

She gasped. And then she looked up and noticed Ben, standing in the shadows, as still as the day she first saw him, frozen in the hall and waiting for someone - _her_ \- to come along. Except now his eyes were warm and dark and molten as he stared at her, taking in the book in her hands, the page it was opened on. His hair was falling into his face like liquid ink. His posture, although fixed, looked natural, less like the carved rock he'd been for the whole time she'd known him.

"Ben?" she asked nervously. "Is this... is this what happened to you?"

He stepped out of the shade and into the beam of light filtering through the high windows. The dust particles danced like fireflies around his body. "I suppose it's close enough."

"So.. I'm your true love?" she whispered, standing quietly and drifting to stand in front of him. His skin was clear, dotted with constellations of moles. She'd never seen them before.

He looked agonised. "I think so."

"You seem... more alive," she murmured, her hand nearly cupping his cheek, _nearly_ brushing his skin.

"As you... grow to care for me, it reverses the spell," Ben croaked, his gaze scanning her face.

"You woke up," she echoed. "I woke you up. And if I kiss you, it'll free you for good?"

"Don't," he said, shaking his head. "Please, don't, not if you don't truly care for me. That would hurt more than the curse ever could."

She swallowed. There was a long, hanging silence filled with possibility and hope. "And what if I do really care for you?"

He blinked like he hadn't ever considered that possibility. "Then... Then I guess - I suppose -"

Rey smiled at him and he stumbled to a halt as she rested her hand on his cheek. She pushed up onto her tiptoes and, bathed in the golden light of the afternoon sun, she kissed him.


	3. Ever Just As Sure

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was supposed to be a creepy atmospheric fic and then Rey wanted to go to IKEA and who was I to deny her. Enjoy <3

She felt the moment Ben realised what was happening, the moment he kissed her back, his large hands moving from their position at his side to cup her cheek tenderly, the way he held the baby birds that fell from their nests upstairs.

His fingers were soft and smooth against her skin, practically covering her jaw and neck with their size as he leaned against her, breathless with surprise.

“I care about you,” she repeated, a giddy grin growing on her face and lighting it up, their bodies surrounded by the glowing light that burst through the tall windows. “So much.”

He let out a little huff of laughter and deepened the kiss, backing her against the end of the bookshelves, the length of his broad body right up against hers, close enough that Rey could feel his heartbeat thumping behind his ribs.

“Your heart,” she whispered, reluctantly pulling her lips from his even as she tilted her head to let the kiss linger. “I can hear it.”

“I believe,” he replied, voice shaky, his eyes sliding shut as he trembled. “You have undone the spell for good. It hasn’t beaten in two centuries, Rey. It began a week ago, give or take.”

She snaked her hand in between them, pressing her palm against the warm and very real fabric of his shirt to feel the steady pulse of his heart and the sheer _vitality_ of him. It’s not that before he’d not felt alive – he walked and talked and laughed and slept, had done for a while – but it was as if there had been a shadow that he’d finally outrun and here he was, the sun himself. His chest rose and fell, his warm breath fanning across her. His hands, still caressing her cheeks, twitched slightly, the nerves remembering their purpose. She heard him gulp nervously.

Rey looked up in awe. “You’re beautiful.”

He couldn’t help himself. He kissed her again: deeply, passionately, lovingly.

* * *

That night, they cooked dinner together in the corner of the large kitchens that was clean and functional. Ben’s eyes were warm in the candlelight and she fought to keep her hands off him. Needless to say, she failed a good ninety percent of the time, drawn to him inexplicably. But it was okay, because he was exactly the same, revelling in being able to feel her properly and learning how to move all over again, testing the limits of his now fully human body.

Once they’d eaten, Rey crawled onto his lap contentedly and rested her head on his shoulder, curling up in the living room armchair. She ran her hands through his hair, half amazed that she could even do this and half jealous that after two hundred years of being stone his hair was still softer than hers.

His arms wound around her and they sat quietly, watching the fire crackle and glow, the room lit up a cheery orange.

“Are you going to stay here?” Rey asked quietly, reluctant to break the cosy silence.

Ben shifted in the chair, looking down at her with a softly furrowed brow. “Are _you_?”

“Of course,” Rey shrugged. “I don’t really want to go back, and I don’t have anything to go back to. But... you’ve been stuck here. You might want to see the world, see what’s changed.”

“Rey,” he said softly, brushing her hair off her face. “You’re my world. There is nothing out there for me either. Everyone I ever knew is long gone. This house and I are all that is left of that time.”

She shifted on his lap, straddling him. The fire behind her outlined her in gold. He could still see her bottom lip quivering. “I’m sorry. I always forget, I shouldn’t have-“

Shushing her with gentle kiss, he rested his hands at the top of her legs and tried to ignore the way his breath caught his throat at the feel of her thighs against his. “We both have things that are hard to talk about,” he reminded her, pressing his lips against her cheeks, nose, forehead before covering her lips again. “It doesn’t matter now. I’m here, and I have you.”

She melted against him, letting out a breathy sigh of happiness that made every nerve in his body twitch. “Then we should probably figure out how we’ll make it work. We’ve been foraging so far but it’s probably not sustainable, maybe I can get a job – the house needs fixing up, I suppose, and-“

“Rey,” Ben laughed, the sound low and hearty. “Look around you. You really think I had to work, before? You think you’ll have to work now?”

She frowned and the sight of her nose scrunched up was too adorable. “What do you mean?”

“I mean we were – and still are – incredibly rich.”

Rey blinked. “I didn’t see any money, and anyway no one uses old coins like that anymore. It won’t work, not even someone like Plutt would take it.”

Ben just stood, picking her up easily and setting her down on the carpeted floor. He was still chuckling slightly to himself which only made her huff as she steadied herself. “Come with me, sweetheart.”

* * *

The part of Rey’s brain that was still – and always would be – wired for self-preservation was extremely unhappy as she followed him down the basement steps to the dark and gloomy cellars under the house. She’d not been down here yet because she hadn’t needed to. The view from the top of the steps was just dusty barrels of wine and cobwebs; before she’d grown to trust Ben, she had assumed that the cellar was the best place to get herself murdered and after she’d trusted Ben, she’d had no need or desire to explore it.

Holding a lantern tightly in one hand, and Ben’s arm with the other, she followed him now. He knew the way intuitively despite the dim lighting and rubble making navigation hard and he guided them easily through the maze of low-ceilinged rooms and heavy wooden doors.

“Here,” he said finally, stopping in a larger room, the arched roof dark and dirty. The walls were lined with chests ribbed with lead and locked securely.

She looked around nervously, holding the lamp high and tugging her blanket more securely around her shoulders. “What’s ‘here’.”

“My mother... she realised pretty quickly what was going to happen to me,” Ben explained quietly. Even with the low volume, the sound of his voice reverberated through the space, raising the hairs on the back of Rey’s neck despite her not being truly scared. “That I could very well end up stuck for goodness knows how long. She realised that when I woke back up, I would need provisions.”

“Ben, it’s been centuries, everything will have gone off,” Rey whispered.

“Which is why my mother, clever woman she was, left me assets, not supplies,” Ben smiled. “Open one of the chests, my love.”

She watched him as he produced a heavy looking key and held it out to her. He lay it in her outstretched palm and softly curled her fingers around it so she held it secure.

“Any one you like.”

“Ben, I don’t understand,” Rey protested weakly.

“Just do it,” he grinned, his eyes glinting with amusement, his hair like spun silk in the spluttering light of the oil lamp that he took from her.

She eyed him suspiciously but turned anyway, kneeling down in front of the closest chest and working the key into the old lock. Muscles straining, she forced it to turn, hearing the dull thud of the mechanism moving after so many years. She didn’t know how the chests had survived this long without being found and emptied, but then she remembered the strange magic of the house that had kept everyone but her away.

Lifting the lid of the trunk took work and the blanket slipped from her shoulders. She cursed and turned to pick it up before it got too dirty, terrified of ruining it, but Ben was already there, scooping it into his arms. She met his eye and he nodded.

When Rey looked back at the opened chest, she felt dizzy. Because there, piled to the brim and bright through the grime on the surface, was something Rey had only read about in novels. Ingots of gold, stacked neatly and packed tightly into the space, having lain in wait ever since Ben’s mother heard about the curse.

“Oh my God,” Rey breathed, taking a step backwards and looking around at the shelves of chests filling the room. “Holy shit. Are they all... do they all have...” It was more wealth than she had ever dreamed of, more than she’d ever imagined owning.

“They all have, yes. Some of it is items – jewellery or paintings that she had a hunch would be worth a lot. Some other metals too, I believe. She spent a lot of time on this,” Ben said softly.

She could hear the pain in his voice and she turned on the spot, wrapping her arms around his waist tightly and leaning her head against his chest. “She must’ve been a wonderful woman.”

“She was,” Ben said and his voice shook. “She really was. She would’ve loved you, I know.”

“This is so much,” Rey croaked, staying pressed against him. “ _So_ much. I don’t believe it. We... we could fix the house, or buy a new one. We’ll never have to work. I never have to – I never have to go back,” she finished, her voice cracking.

Ben set the lamp carefully on the stone floor and crouched down until his face was level with hers. “I love you, Rey.”

She sobbed and the sound ricocheted off the walls of the cellar. “I love you too,” she whimpered, allowing herself to be folded into his warm embrace, safe and protected and provided for.

* * *

When they emerged, Rey having filled her rucksack with gold bars and making it nearly too heavy for her to carry back up the stairs (she managed though, and refused to let him help which made him laugh), she had vanished to ‘run a bath’. Ben strongly suspected she would use the sound of the water as a cover for her tears but he understood. He needed some time to think as well.

He found himself wandering with no real direction but when he ended up in front of his mother’s portrait, he wasn’t altogether that surprised.

Standing in the quiet corridor, he sucked in a deep lungful of air and let it out slowly, gazing up at the oil painting. It was an excellent likeness – Leia Organa would never have allowed anything else to be hung in her house – and it was the one thing Ben had tried to keep clean even as the house fell apart around him and his rapidly fossilizing body. He’d dusted it every day since Rey woke him up.

“She’s amazing, Mother,” he said to the painting, fingertips brushing the canvas. “Everything you ever wanted for me and more.”

The hallway stayed silent.

“Thank you for everything you did,” he continued, watching her stern but loving expression, one he knew well. “I just with this could’ve happened sooner. You’d have wanted to see this.”

He could hear Rey splashing in the bathtub someone at the other end of the house, the sound carrying through the unused halls. Maybe they could do the house up, or maybe they could find somewhere smaller. Even when the place was full of servants and friends of his parents it had always felt too big to a younger Ben. Maybe with Rey it would be different.

“I’ll let you know what we decide,” Ben added, smiling at the portrait. “I love you.”

And then he turned his back and paced away, his footsteps muffled on the plush carpet. If he’d looked back, he might’ve seen the corner of Leia’s mouth quirk into a smile, the smile lines around her eyes deepening with joy. But he didn’t look back, and so he didn’t see.

* * *

It was another week before they made any hard decisions. And anyway, as Ben pointed out, it wasn’t like they didn’t have money to fall back on if they ever made a wrong decision. Rey scoffed at that and reminded him that money wasn’t to be _wasted_ just because they had a lot of it.

Preparing to go into town was a difficult enough task all by itself: people would undoubtedly ask questions about where Ben had come from and seeing as he had no modern clothes, he would stick out like a sore thumb; on top of that they would have to take the gold to Unkar Plutt who Rey really didn’t want to see but there was nowhere else they could take this much gold without raising suspicion.

Ben finally heard the whole story about Plutt and why Rey had ran – it took her an hour to convince him not to take his sword and run the man through because _“Ben that’s really not how we do things any more, you’d go to jail you idiot”_. He reluctantly let it go, but remained tight jawed for the rest of the evening as Rey rambled about fake plants and blankets and something called a microwave.

* * *

They went into town on a Monday, Rey armed with her heavy rucksack and Ben armed with the most normal clothes Rey could find in the house.

Plutt took one look at them as they walked into the pawn shop and burst out laughing. Rey put her hand on Ben’s chest as he snarled slightly and met Plutt’s eyes, narrowing her own fiercely.

“I’ve got gold for you. Enough to pay off whatever I owe and then some. You’ll give me a fair price on the rest and then you’ll never have to see me again,” Rey said, her voice strong and clear.

“Oh yeah? You found the gold at the Ren Fair along with your boyfriend?” Plutt sneered, leaning across the grimey counter, eyes gleaming.

“No. I found it in the cellar of a haunted magical mansion and my boyfriend is a gargoyle,” Rey deadpanned back, dropping the rucksack on the dirty surface and hearing the satisfying thud of the gold settling in the bag. “How much for this lot?”

Plutt’s eyebrow shot up at the noise and he leaned back which meant Ben could relax somewhat, feeling Rey squeeze his hand reassuringly. The man unzipped the battered bag slowly, sensing a trick. But there was none.

Once he was what was inside, he grabbed an ingot with wide, greedy eyes, tapping it against the glass and eyeing it in disbelief. “Where you steal this from, huh?”

Rey rolled her eyes. “Nowhere. Not that goods being stolen has ever stopped you before. How much, Plutt.”

He scratched his chin as he inspected the rest of them, his jaw hitting the floor and failing to be picked up as he realised that Rey really had brought him a bag full of gold.

“You little thief,” he chuckled, eyes raking her up and down before jumping to Ben next to her.

“You take that back,” Ben said, his voice tight stilted as he struggled with his control. “Take it back now, coward. Know that the only reason you aren’t dead right now is because she told me not to kill you on sight.”

Plutt chuckled again but it was tinged with nervousness. As well it should be. Rey smirked as she watched the man begin to weigh out the gold carefully. Ben, despite his ridiculous clothes, was a good foot taller than Plutt, and broad and muscular to boot. The way she was restraining him with a hand on his chest and the dark glint in his expressive eyes probably helped too.

Part of Rey hated that it took Ben to make Plutt scared and that she wasn’t enough by herself, but the rest of her – the majority – was immensely grateful.

“I... I don’t think I even have enough to give you for all this,” Plutt finally admitted. “It’s... more than I’ve ever seen.”

“That’s okay,” Rey said, smiling sweetly. “We’ll just take everything you’ve got. We might come in to swap more yet too.”

He choked slightly. “I see. I see. Right well, I can... one minute please...”

He vanished hastily into the back of the dingy shop, the rooms that Rey had known so well. Her old bedroom, if you could call it that, was back there somewhere. She took immense pleasure in knowing that she would never have to go back.

“Where do you want to go after this?” Ben asked softly, kissing the top of her head. She’d tried to explain all the new shops to him - _Primark_ and _IKEA_ if they were in time for the bus and, somewhere she’d always wanted to buy from but had never been able to afford it, _Urban Outfitters_ \- and he’d done his best to understand before accepting that he would just follow her lead.

“Maybe Primark first?” she whispered, squeezing his hand again. “We can get some new sheets? You have the measurements?”

They were staying in the house and doing it up, they’d decided. It had taken many pros and cons lists and discussions, but Ben didn’t want to leave it all behind and Rey had already fallen in love with the place too. It could be done up – either by contractors or the two of them if the magic still repelled anyone else – and they could live there in peace. There would be money enough to buy a house elsewhere if they ever wanted a change of scenery but they had no plans to do so for a long time yet.

“I have them,” he promised, showing her the slip of paper with the bed’s dimensions written in his cursive handwriting. “We can find something nice.”

Rey stretched onto her tiptoes to kiss his jaw gratefully. Behind her, she heard Plutt re-enter the room. Ben’s eyes glinted with the dark remnants of the curse, and so Plutt said nothing.

“We’ll be off then,” Ben said coolly, taking the bag of money and slotting it inside the now empty rucksack. “We’ve got things to be doing.”

“Goodbye,” Rey added politely, but there was an undercurrent of steel running through her voice that rang with finality. Ben rested his palm on the small of her back and directed her out of the shop and held her hand until she stopped shaking.

* * *

They finally made it back to the house well after dark, loaded down with more bags than they could realistically carry. Ben had dragged the bag of cushions behind him as patiently as he’d pushed the very odd metal cart around the shop for hours before as Rey had added one after another gleefully to the growing pile, holding tiny pencils and paper rulers and goodness knows what else. They stoked the fire from the embers of last night, cooked dinner and changed the sheets. Ben had happily kept his mouth shut and indulged Rey in every purchase she wanted to make – why not, after all? – and it wasn’t long before their bed was made up in the pretty yellow sheets and mountains of throw pillows and the fireplace now sporting some fairy lights and a tiny cactus that Rey had already meticulously watered.

Ben sank back onto the bed with a tired chuckle, tugging at the modern jumper he was now wearing. He had to admit that these clothes were more comfortable than his previous ones, and the funny stares had stopped once he’d ducked into a bathroom to change. Rey was already in new pyjamas and matching fluffy socks and she bounced onto the bed, deliciously exhausted.

Curling up next to him, she tucked her head into the space by his shoulder and slung one arm across his chest. Ben was obsessed with how comfortable she was with him – and how close she wanted to be at all times. After so long with no contact with anyone at all, having his _soulmate_ warm against his side was heaven on earth.

Rey whispered against the fabric of his sweater. “Thank you for today, and for everything.”

Ben turned his head to kiss her temple, running his fingers through her tangled hair. “I love you, Rey Nothing.”

Her face split into a beautifully crooked grin and he could see the freckles splashed across her cheeks like constellations. “I love you more, Benjamin Organa Solo, Prince and former statue.”

She kissed him then, her lips firm and insistent against his. He melted against her, running his hands over the curve of her waist and groaning quietly. Rey laughed breathily, knowing exactly how he felt. But it wasn’t just lust. Sure, there was a _lot_ of that, but it was also knowing that she was save, and loved, and _home_.

“Although not so former statue, if I’m understanding correctly,” Rey added with a smirk, pressing her hips against his teasingly.

Ben turned red. “If that’s a modern euphemism, I am not impressed.”

Rey just laughed and covered his face in kisses, the sound tumbling from the bedroom and filling the forgotten halls with joy, promising that they’d never be abandoned again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Follow me on twitter for absolute nonsense delivered straight to your door: [@annareginar](https://twitter.com/annareginar)

**Author's Note:**

> Hello!! This fic was inspired by vanilla_villain37's spooky gargoyle fic, [Potassium Feldspar](https://archiveofourown.org/works/24931477) which you should defo go and check out!! More should be up soon, I'm posting this now to kick myself up the arse hehe.  
> Follow me on twitter, [@annareginar](https://twitter.com/annareginar)


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